


The Morning After Continues

by Wolfsbride



Series: Heart and Hearth [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Older Woman/Younger Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 12:24:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsbride/pseuds/Wolfsbride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Domesticated Bond</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Morning After Continues

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Persiflage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/gifts).



What M finds most odd about the situation is how it doesn’t bother her, having James in her home. It’s always made her hackles rise, when she’d come home to find him loitering and drinking her Scotch, and she’d got used to being alone after her husband died. But having him here is pleasant, like he’s where he belongs.

He also makes her feel less like an old warhorse. She’s never been one to dwell on her age. It’s simply a fact of life, after all. But having James around seems to have revitalized her libido. Or at least dragged it out from where she’d stuffed it after the demands of the job changed and her husband lost interest in such things.

He’d joined her in the shower and sulked when he realized she wasn’t going to let him fuck her there. The last thing she needed was to slip and fall. She’d mollified him by allowing him to finger her to climax, clinging to his broad shoulders to keep from collapsing in a heap. 

When she’d reached down to bring him off, she’d found him sticky but flaccid. He’d ducked his head and kissed her hard, before pulling away to mutter about her giving him a hair trigger. She’d smacked him, but secretly she’d been pleased. They’d spent the next few minutes leisurely washing each other.

Now he’s sitting on the edge of her bed, wearing last night’s clothes. His hair is still a mess and she has the irrational urge to rewrite the dress code to allow for untidy bedhead. He’s watching her get dressed and she admits to feeling slightly self-conscious. He must notice – of course he does. That’s what he’s been trained to do – because he gets to his feet and moves to stand behind her.

His hands touch her shoulders, before he lowers his head to kiss the back of her neck. She shivers when he whispers in her ear.

“You’re beautiful.”

“I’m old and wrinkly.”

“And beautiful. And sexy. And powerful.” 

With each word, he kisses her until her skin tingles. She shoos him out to make breakfast so she can get ready in peace. They’re sure to be late for work otherwise.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Breakfast goes smoothly even though this is their first one together. Of course Bond knows how she takes her tea and toast. When he slides a fluffy omelette onto her plate as well, she starts to refuse. 

“Protein.” He smirks shamelessly. “You’ll need to keep your strength up.” 

She rolls her eyes. “Over confidence is the first step to disaster, James.” She takes a bite of the omelette and moans as the flavour bursts over her tongue. He steals a kiss after she’s swallowed.

After a few more minutes of tongue play, he sits down with his own plate. They eat in silence and M is relieved that James doesn’t feel the need to fill the air with chatter. He brings her another cup of tea before heading to the sink to wash the few dishes. 

“You’ll make someone a lovely husband.”

He looks over his shoulder at her. “Is that an offer?”

She blinks at him above the edge of her cup. “James.”

He turns back to the dishes. “Forget it. Too soon, I know.”

M lowers her tea and stares down into the cup. Not too soon. Too impossible. But it’s a nice dream.

~*~*~*~*~*~

They’re still lingering even though the breakfast dishes are stacked. It seems neither of them are in a hurry to go to the office where they’ll have to wear their masks once more. It’s all rather domestic, M muses. Though she’d never felt this at ease with her late husband. 

“What is it, James?” M finally asks when she sees Bond glancing at her over the top of his newspaper for the twelfth time in fifteen minutes. 

He shakes his head but then lowers his newspaper anyway and stares at her. “It’s nothing really.” 

M smiles when he goes all shy on her again. This time, however, she allows herself the luxury of acknowledging the sweet feeling. “James?”

He shrugs. “Just… I’ve had breakfast with you.” He sounds awed.

She reaches across the table towards him and gives his hand a little squeeze. “I’m glad you’re here.”

And she is. She’d forgotten what it was like to have someone else in her space, the noise and the clatter bringing warmth to her dry existence. 

She draws back her hand and takes another sip of her tea. “Were there any problems with the mission?”

Bond grins. “You mean besides my poor wrist?”

M scowls, but she can’t maintain it. “Yes, James. Besides your poor over worked wrist.”

“Actually.” He pauses and glances away from her, one hand rising to rub at the back of his neck. 

He’s worried and that concerns her. She waits for him to continue. 

“Um. I may be having some trouble in the bedroom department.”

Her cup clatters to the table top and M is certain her brain blanks out for a minute. Then, to her everlasting horror, she hears herself giggling. She claps a hand over her mouth but it’s no good. Now that she’s started she can’t stop. It doesn’t help that Bond has folded his arms over his chest and is glaring petulantly. 

She has to squeeze her eyes shut to make any sort of headway of regaining control. She takes a few deep breathes and wipes a stray tear from the corner of her eye. When she dares to open her eyes again, Bond is even more disgruntled. 

“Are you quite finished?”

“I’m sorry, James. That was unforgivably rude. But surely you can understand my…” At his hurt expression, M wants to smack herself. She of all people knew better than to believe the story that was shown on the surface. James was more than his libido. 

She sighs. “I _am_ sorry.” She says more seriously this time. “What happened?”

Bond shifts, body relaxing when he understands he’s not going to be mocked. “I had a chance to procure some information from a young lady – through physical means – and I turned it down. I chose instead to do _research_.” He sounds scandalized. 

M doesn’t blame him. Agents are trained to make the most efficient use of whatever is at their disposal. The girl was a logical choice. She tilts her head. 

“Why?” She has her suspicions, as hard to believe as they are. She’s curious to see if James will come to the same conclusion. 

He gazes at her. “I think we both know why. She wasn’t you. It’s never mattered before. Not when I didn’t really think I had a chance with you. But now…” 

He crumples the paper. “It feels like cheating.” 

As much as she appreciates the loyalty, M knows there’s no way James can cut seduction out of his repertoire. It’s too fine a weapon. She thinks for a moment. This isn’t something she wants to have to bring up with the MI6 shrinks. 

She stands and moves to his side, slipping an arm across his shoulder. Pressing close, she dips her head. Her lips brush his ear. 

“The next time you find you can’t seduce a mark, I want you to picture them as a gift from me. I want you to please them, because it will please me. I want you to picture that I’m watching you both.” 

She bites his earlobe and then pulls away, turning to leave the kitchen. “Don’t forget to stop at the barber on your way in.”

The sound of James’ forehead banging against her kitchen table makes her laugh as she walks down the hall to collect her coat.

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to recover from the porn.


End file.
